How On Trend Am I? Looking at Whether My Taste Follows the Crowd When it Comes to YA

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I’ve talked before about whether my taste follows the crowd and it’s something I often wonder about. Last month, when Goodreads celebrated YA, I noticed how closely my taste follows the crowd… well, for the most part.

Looking at 40 most popular recent Young Adult Novels and 100 most popular YA books of all time, I was surprised to find I’d read most of the books. Even more significant is how much I liked the books- my average ratings were 3.9 and 3.47 respectively. I gave 15% of books 5* in the recent YA books and 10% 5* in the most popular of all time. There were some outliers that I didn’t love (like Caraval and Lord of Shadows) or won’t read (Turtles All the Way Down), but for the most part I was at least satisfied with the vast majority of the books on the popular recent releases list. Clearly, I’m enjoying these a lot more- suggesting I’m on the right track to keep reading them. Turns out, I know my own taste! (go figure 😉)

To me, it makes sense that I’ve read so many of these as well, since these are the books with the most visibility and I’m not immune to marketing 😉 Plus, these are also books that are more readily available on a budget and if you use libraries a lot. So, in this case, I don’t feel all that bad about my taste following the crowd- especially given it’s leading to high levels of satisfaction! As much as I’d enjoy being a bookish hipster, I guess I’m quite mainstream when it comes to YA.

One thing I have to note from this experiment is that there were books on the most popular YA of all time that (at least to my mind) weren’t YA at all (Red Rising and Anne of Green Gables being the most obvious). But that’s a discussion to have (again) another day. I don’t think it massively skewed my results- though have to do my due diligence and mention it 😉

Alrighty then! Do you notice your taste follows the crowd in particular genres and categories? Are you bothered by it if your taste is quite mainstream like mine? Let me know in the comments!

Why Do I Unhaul Books? My Thoughts on Minimalism and Marie Kondo

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Last month, I decided to read my sister’s Marie Kondo book. If you’re not familiar, it’s basically an *extreme* tidying up method. Though I’m not much of a hoarder these days, I did need a kick up the butt to get rid of a few things, which the book provided- thanks book! Now, (because I can’t resist doing a mini review), this isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of the book. It had some downsides:

magic of tidying marie kondo

It’s a bit extreme (for instance, it suggests ideal number of books for a person is 30… haha no!) It vaguely says that if you’re an academic, you can keep more of your books, but I just think there are plenty of other people made exuberantly happy by large book collections. I also think this a pretty subjective opinion to state as fact.

Not everything will “spark joy”, no matter how much you need it/probably shouldn’t part with it. And, when it comes to books, some books have a very negative vibe. Sticking to the subject of books, Solzhenitsyn, for instance, doesn’t exactly make me want to sing and dance!

It also (perhaps accidentally) encourages people to rebuy things they mistakenly discarded. But most people can’t afford to just purge and rebuy! In a similar vein, it argues that if you haven’t read a book you’ve hoarded, you never will. Granted, this will sometimes be true- but sometimes it’s just about committing to it (and unhauling and rehauling something you’re genuinely interested in isn’t a good plan).

HOWEVER I do personally think there’s an upside to thinking more critically about decluttering books- as Bookish Villainy discussed in her post “How Minimalism Has Improved My Book Collection and My Reading”. So what are my reasons for trimming down my collection?

Limited space. If you live and rent in a city, you’ll know that space is at a premium! Having too much stuff can create stress. There’s not only the issue of storing them in the short term, but also how overwhelming it can be in the event of an (inevitable) move etc. As much as I love having lots of books, I have to be mindful of how many I own.

Letting go of things you don’t love is healthy. For me, there’s no point keeping hold of things I don’t like/won’t read again. Sometimes it’s gotta move on in the great circle of book life and find people who will love it.

I like having a collection I truly know and love. I like the idea of enjoying everything I own. I love looking at a bookshelf where I can ogle my favourites and feel happy about having them there. I never get tired of looking at the books I adore 😉 (the downside, of course, is whenever I look at my bookshelf I’m tempted to reread something 😉)

So, those are my reasons I unhaul books. Do you unhaul books? Why or why not? Let me know in the comments! I’d be interested to hear your views!

Why Escapism is Important

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I’ve seen some questions lately about reading in the current climate. How can we focus on books right now? How can we talk about reading at a time like this? And the answer for me is simple- how can you not? When times are uncertain, when we’re facing hardship and when the future is uncertain, there’s nothing better than to get lost in books.

Books can take us far away from reality. They are like shining unicorns, carrying us off into new worlds and different experiences. Reading, for me, has always been a great escape. Beyond understanding the world a bit better and making sense of ourselves, it is also an opportunity to switch off.

That doesn’t mean turning a blind eye or doing nothing- I’m not saying that at all. Just that sometimes life is out of our control, sometimes you can’t mend what’s broken and sometimes we have to make the best of bad circumstances. Sometimes all we can do is take the foot off the accelerator and slow down. And I don’t know about you, but for me that can be a relief.

As important as it is to face up to reality or our emotions, it’s not always the best idea to overwhelm our nervous systems (ie until we become a nervous wreck). We can take limited doses of chaos before we need a little order. That’s why escapism can prove so medicinal. It can help keep our lives in orbit when the planets of fortune don’t align. It can be a healthy coping mechanism. It is an oasis, a calm in the storm, a place to go to recharge. It frees the mind and helps us breathe easier.

sorcery of thornsMore than that: it makes us stronger (as Sorcery of Thorns beautifully illustrated for me recently). Through books, we trek off into fantasy lands and learn how to defeat dragons in our own lives. From quests, we come to realise how to navigate the wilds so we too can be heroes. Then we take those treasures back to our own world. It’s only after acquiring this knowledge that we can be ready to face whatever life throws at us next.

So, what do you think? Do you agree or disagree? What’s your view on reading as escapism? Is it valuable or a waste of time? Let me know in the comments!

Reining in the Criticism – Reasons I Don’t Review Every Book

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Today I’m doing a different post to the one I’d planned, because I had written (and was preparing to schedule) a review… which I’ve now pulled back. And there was a reason for that. It was a review I did research for and worked hard on- yet looking into the author also told me he was coming from a good place. Right now, I’m seeing how easy it is to tear things down and attack others online. That’s just not what I’m about. Sometimes, we’ve got to look at ourselves and wonder is it worth it? I don’t want to speak for everyone and I’m certainly not telling anyone else how/what/when to review, I just want to talk about why I might not review something:

shameIf the author might get unfair backlash- in the last month, watching the internet explode, I feel a bit more cautious about putting criticism out there. I’ve talked about this before and hope to do so again (when I get the headspace), but the last thing I want is to be involved in is cancel culture. Now, even if I trust my readers not to turn into some angry mob online, I still sometimes think it’s better to hold back. This is not to say I’m veering away from all negativity- only that I want to be a little careful at the moment. A lot of the time, I can review a book integrating my criticism- however if all I’ve written is a barrage of criticism on one issue, then I may not want to put that out there.

who meIf I’m just not the right person to talk about the issue– because (surprising as this may be to some of you) I’m not an expert on everything- I know, shocker, right?! 😉 And I just don’t want to make things worse by trying to make things better. My intentions may be good, but much like the last point, it could easily backfire. Again, if I can integrate my opinion into the entire review, great. If not, it may be better to leave it to someone more suited to the topic.

I'm offendedIf my criticism is too strongly tied to personal experience– on the flipside, sometimes a topic may be too close to the bone and I don’t feel comfortable bringing it up. Sometimes I could give insight on an issue- I just don’t want to “out” myself in the process. I may also struggle to express myself in this situation, so chances are, I may just abandon the review, cos it ain’t worth it! Don’t get me wrong, I respect people who do, but it’s not my style. (Jeez- I don’t even feel all that comfortable tangentially talking about it lol!)

If the author’s an unknown– this is quite a straightforward (and far less controversial) point: I just don’t like to review obscure indie books super negatively. Though I’m sure I could find an exception, I mostly read pretty mainstream books anyway.

If I don’t have enough to say– I mean, that’s what my mini reviews are for, BUT some books are just so forgettable I can’t even come up with a few sentences.

And that’s where I stand! Do you review every book? What are your reasons? Let me know in the comments!

What even is an “important book”?

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A while back I was watching a great video by Alexa Donne on how you don’t need to write an important book- which I highly recommend checking out if you need a pep talk. But it made me think: what even is an important book?

At the risk of rehashing a lot of the discussion there, I’d agree that it’s often used in marketing for issues books. And, I’d also go as far as to say, much like the literary fiction label, it’s also a way of slapping a “this is worthy” tag on a book.

My first order of contention with the very idea of an “important book” is how much genre snobbery comes into play here. Because generally speaking, it’s going to be mostly contemporary (and very occasionally historical fiction) that gets this moniker. We might even see a sci fi getting talked about this way… buuut only if it’s dystopia. And my beloved fantasy? Forget about it. Doesn’t matter if it shines a light on the true horror of war or explores deep psychological themes- it’s just never going to be talked about in the same way.

More concerning to me is how this is often framed. As Donne said “what’s important for one person might not be important for another”. And this couldn’t be more true. We all know that books are such a personal experience: a book that touches us and proves important could really fit into any category. Regardless of whether a book covers an important issue, it can become important in someone’s life. On the flipside, a book that covers topical issues can feel irrelevant or be something an individual doesn’t connect with. Claiming a book has “importance” in such a context seems a little meaningless, don’t you think?

However, I also think this goes deeper and touches on a more significant issue. In the vast majority of cases, I see books and stories that are deemed “important” are on the same narrow range of topics. For instance, I have read countless literary books about the struggles of a working or middle class person to fit in with the upper class… which, surprisingly, isn’t super relatable for most working or middle class people, despite how often it’s portrayed in stories 😉 Not that there is a deliberate conspiracy going on- just that, as carefully curated as a list may be, it will always be subject to human decision making and a natural tendency to trend-chase. The problem for me isn’t just that these books are samey or that the topic is “unrelatable” (as I’ve mentioned previously, that doesn’t necessarily matter), it’s that it leaves so much space for *other* important topics that never get discussed. Especially injustices that that may seem hard to package in a palatable way or are too sensitive to be touched. And this is not to say there should be less of a certain kind of story, just that sometimes I think the focus of what is “important” could be broadened a little.

whole world in my hands

And, perhaps most controversially, I’d also say that being “important” or someone’s “magnum opus” doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good. There’s still that pesky matter of taste to contend with; there’s the possibility it was published to chase a trend. And, worst of all, there’s the potential for it to be tryhard and cringy and moralising… which can all be painful to read! I guess the only positive here is that calling a book “important” doesn’t give you any real hint as to its quality.

So, all in all, I’m not sure how helpful I find the term… even if I’ve used it myself in an offhand way 😉 Obviously, it’d be the pot calling the kettle black if I critiqued every usage- nonetheless I’m finding myself more sceptical by the day about whether any books are more important than others.

What do you think? Do you find the term “important book” useful? If so, why? I want to hear what you think in the comments!

How Dead is the Author Anyway? Notes on Authorial Intent and Reimagining Canon

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As an English Lit grad, it can be no surprise that I have a deep fascination for the subject “Death of the Author”. Briefly, Roland Barthes concept is that an author’s intentions and biography don’t have special weight in determining interpretation of their work. For me, I’ve floated back and forth over the years, drifting in the uncomfortable in-between of whether I should eddy these waters with my own pen. In the end, I was inspired by Rachael’s excellent “Is the Writer Dead or Not?” post to finally discuss it.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m hesitant to wholly get behind the theory. Dare I say it, part of this is because sometimes I think it gives too much credit to reader- as marvellous as we may be at finding bookish gems, a book’s value is not determined by whether its read (after all, as a tree falling in a forest with no one around to hear it still makes a sound, a brilliant book that never gets read is still technically brilliant. It’s the law of physics 😉). My silly quasi-philosophical musings aside, I do however see the value in “Death of the Author” (or I wouldn’t be discussing it 😉). Though a writer’s background and intentions shouldn’t be totally discounted, ultimately books should be open to interpretation. Looking at books from this angle is the most freeing. It gives readers the power to find meaning without being handheld along the way.

Another reason this theory is helpful, as Rachael brought up, is that it helps us separate an author from their work. As I’ve previously discussed, I’m a big fan of judging a work on its own merit, rather than writing it off because I don’t like the author. While I respect anyone’s right to choose what they read, I prefer not to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

And, as I’ve said recently, there are limits to interpretation- any interpretation. Both in the case of authors retconning their own work and when authors definitively say “*this* is what I meant by that”. Not necessarily because an author can be wrong about their intent- but they most certainly cannot say whether they were successful in conveying what they meant or whether an individual will interpret it differently. the dressFrankly, the 2015 tale of THE DRESS (where some people saw blue/black and others saw white/gold) tells us that we literally do not see the world the same way. Thus, an author cannot demand we see exactly what they intended to emphasise and dismiss what they did not want us to see at all. The messages that hit home may not be what they thought; the way we view their characters might not be a reflection of what was in their heart… and that’s okay. Once a book is out in the world, it’s going to take on a life of its own. Authorial intent ends when a story walks out the door and reaches new readers.

Of course, I feel that an author can give interpretations of their own work (though I’d personally prefer if they’d couch it in terms of “it could mean” instead of “I meant it to mean”). However, I am loath to call later additions and commentary “canon”. Like any other reader, I’m going to want proof of their claims; I’m going to expect them to say more than “it was there all along”. Interpretation has little value without textual evidence. Rewriting a book in retrospect is not only irritating, it undermines the fabric of the existing text. It muddies truths with lies. And it is also a sure-fire way to lose your reader. In that regard at least, I can safely say the author is dead to me.

So, what do you think? Is the author dead or alive? Let me know in the comments!

It’s Okay to be Wrong! The Importance of Interpretation and its Limits…

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Though of course I never am 😉

Just kidding! What I do think is that opinions are not set in stone and that we’re not always going to be right. And that’s okay- as nice as it would be to be the arbiters of truth, part of the joy of discussing books is finding out what we don’t know, otherwise what would be the point of having a discussion?

Now that we’ve established that, I can safely say there are *loads* of ways to be wrong (what a happy thought 😉). Years ago, I made a post about how I don’t like when people say “read between the lines” as an explanation for why they have a bookish theory, which is akin to saying “I don’t have a real argument for this, just go with it”. And, as fun as it is to come up with things on the fly, that’s just not going to cut it. You need evidence to back up your points; you must prove it (otherwise smart alecs like me won’t buy what you’re selling 😉).

Mean-Girls-GIF-Cady-Heron-Lindsay-Lohan-Falls-In-Trash-Can1The problem that arises is how easily “reading between the lines” can fall into pitfalls. One of the most obvious ways is how it can contradict canon- such as claiming a character is gay without textual evidence of this. Of course, I’m not saying don’t write/enjoy fanfic, only that this may not be a strong interpretation of the actual text and can lead down a bad path analytically. Good evidence is important.

Though I veer towards the side of “Death of the Author” (more on that another time) I also think that what is in the text matters. There is such a thing as going too far with an interpretation- especially to the point where it contradicts common sense. thinking monkeyI’ve seen and heard enough crackpot theories over the years to have a healthy scepticism when I hear a new one. Not every line break in a poem is deep and meaningful; not every adjective/verb/noun is worth focusing on (something Rachael points out in her brilliant “Is the Author Really Dead?” post).

Even authors can be wrong about their own work. On the one hand, while they won’t be wrong about authorial intent, they may not realise the impact their techniques can have and cannot definitively say whether they achieved what they set out to. Plus, we all know the authors who just-so-happen to reinterpret their own work to make it seem more “woke” 😉. Shoddy and (dare-I-say-it) attention-seeking interpretations like these perhaps shouldn’t be taken too seriously. After all, the point of interpretation is a search for the truth, not trying to be “on trend”, or show off, or please ourselves.

None of this is to say that interpretation isn’t important, just that it’s better to take it with a pinch of salt (and maybe let it simmer a bit before you gorge yourself on it 😉). Whether it’s the author saying it or it comes endorsed by a literary scholar, every criticism needs to be approached with a degree of caution. And that goes for our own views too!

Yes, being reflective of our own views may not be so fun, questioning can make us uncomfortable and knowing we might be shot down is terrifying. Yet, in the great quest for the truth, we need to be prepared to make bad guesses and put ourselves out there. As wonderful as it would be to be right all the time, we need the courage to be wrong sometimes too.

So, what do you think? Are all interpretations valid? Or is it okay to be wrong? And, dare I ask, are you okay with being wrong? Let me know in the comments

Why I don’t believe in unbiased reviews

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Controversial opinion time: my subjective opinion is *subjective*. Okay, just kidding, that’s not really debatable (even if it is fun to see people trying to debate that). However, I’m not here to talk about how silly it is to try and dictate taste today- no, right now I want to talk about why it’s okay to have biased reviews (which is probably a lot more of a contentious statement).

Let me explain. It’s not just that being opinionated is unavoidable in a review- though since we’re all human (/sentient primates) that is the case- it’s that it’s actually desirable to share your opinions. As Lashaan brilliantly said in his post “how objective are your reviews”, being subjective actually helps readers to figure out whether we might dislike or like a book. The main point of a review isn’t just to get across a sense of what happens in a book- that’s what a synopsis or blurb is for. No, reviews are to help us make value judgements over whether we want to read something or not. And that can only happen if we’re in touch with our own thoughts and feelings about a book.

Now, of course, that means we have to be aware that we’re being subjective. In Rachael’s excellent post, “How to Not Suck at Reviewing in Five Easy Steps”, she pointed out how it’s necessary to compartmentalise our own emotions and identify when we’re being subjective. It’s no good, for instance, to just say “well that was rubbish” and leave it at that. We have to be reasoned in our approach to reviewing. If we say we don’t like something, preferably it should be done in a way that other people can make up their own minds (and also not to shame other people for liking it). Even better if we can state our own biases to explain where we’re coming from; best of all if we can go as far as to recommend it to people who might actually like it. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being biased, we just have to remember not everyone will share our view.

Throne_of_Glass_UKFor me, the only issue would come from stating an opinion as fact. Elliot Brooks argued brilliantly in her video “Book Lovers Love Book Hate” that claiming a book is “objectively bad” doesn’t make much sense- I mean, we already know it’s your opinion, so how can it be objective? Too often I have seen this on Booktube as well- especially with regards to reviews of Sarah J Maas books- which I have always found especially illuminating. One complaint, for instance, that regularly arises is that the ellipsis (or otherwise known as fragmentation) is “objectively bad”… which, sorry to burst anyone’s bubble, isn’t the case. As discussed in my post “the Art of Fragmentation”, the technique has many uses that can be appreciated whether you enjoy it or not.

tasteIn fact, this is the entire reason I created my Differences in Style series. What works for one reader may not work for another- and that’s okay! Once again, taste is subjective and therefore so are reviews. Maybe we’ll agree, maybe we won’t- regardless it’s not the end of the world. That’s the beauty of an opinion.

So, I really want to hear what you think! Do you agree or disagree with me here? Does it matter that reviews are subjective? Or should we be striving to be more objective? Is that even possible or desirable? Let me know in the comments!

Dusting Off Old Projects

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This time last year, I talked about shelving old projects and letting dead projects lie. Now I’m resurrecting the topic… to turn it on its head. Because, unexpectedly, one thing I came away thinking is that maybe sometimes it’s a good idea to step back into bad old writing.

it's aliveBurnt out from editing and not ready to start a new project, I decided to go back to an abandoned story. I knew that there were parts I liked and parts I didn’t. To put it simply, I took a duology, cut, hacked and stitched it together to make one Frankenstein MONSTER BOOK. Now, this isn’t a fairy tale (after all, we’re talking about some serious necromancy here!) I doubt me and the book will wind up happily ever after 😉 I may end up having rewritten it just to shelve it again.

monster book of monstersHowever, what I am happy to say is I had fun with my little fling. Playing around with it reminded me why I wrote it in the first place and made me want to write more. I realised I could take time out to work on something just for me (just as long as it doesn’t devour all my time 😉 ).

grave robbingMost surprisingly of all, it was a learning curve. Not only could I see the massive development in my writing, I realised I could still learn new tricks from old projects. I ended up thinking how much I could ransack from the project for future stories and where I could improve elsewhere. Sure, this may seem like graverobbing (cos it is a bit), but I also saw this as an opportunity to create a whole new life aka more stories! 😉

I’m not completely turning my back on my previous post. Not every story is meant to see the light of day buuut maybe it doesn’t have to be shut up in the dark either. So, I guess the message here is that you don’t write anything off…

What do you think about dusting off old projects and old ideas? Do you like to resurrect bits here and there? Or do you think you should let dead things lie? Let me know in the comments!

Why do I struggle to DNF?

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I’ve talking a bit lately about how to DNF and books I’m glad I DNF’d, but I haven’t actually got into why I find it so hard. With this discussion, I’ve been wondering if it’s always a mistake to DNF or (equally) if it’s a bad idea to keep going. So I’ve written a list of reasons why I struggle to DNF. Some of these reasons are good… some not so much- let’s get into them…

dune#1 FOMO– this is probably the biggest one for me personally. There are so many books out there that are acclaimed or a BIG DEAL in some way- and I can never quite forgive myself for not liking each and every one of those (ridiculous, I know! but that’s why I’ve powered through books like Dune, despite not liking the writing style from the start) A huge part of me always wants to know what the fuss is about and doesn’t like the idea that I’m somehow not getting everything I could out of books. If this is my sole motivator for continuing with a book I’m not interested in or don’t like, I’m just going to have to learn to let go.

mrs dalloway#2 Because I like to persevere. For me personally, I have a very positive association with perseverance. I like to see things through, no matter what. So, if I give up on a book, I feel ridiculously guilty. It even makes me pick up books again, like  Mrs Dalloway, long after I’ve DNF’d them!

 

lolita#3 The shame– this is kind of a combination of #1 and #2. I feel an overwhelming sense of failure if I can’t make it through a book I’m not enjoying (which is rather silly, since this is a hobby, not a job!) I also don’t like the idea of admitting I couldn’t make it to the end of a book. Thus, I tend to power through, long after I should’ve just called it quits.

 

a separate peace#4 For work/uni– of course, sometimes I am obliged to finish something whether I want to or not. And that kinda sucks, especially in the case of Lolita or even a Separate Peace, but it’s part and parcel of life- sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do.

 

NutshellMcEwan#5 So I can review it– this is in part another sense of obligation (though of course I rarely do ARCs and more rarely still dislike them). However, it also comes down to the fact that I take (a twisted kind of) pleasure in being able to drag a book I didn’t enjoy. And how could I review something properly if I haven’t finished it? Of course, I could just review what I’ve read so far or *shock horror* not bother to review it at all… which I actually do with a fair amount of books I’ve finished anyway 😉 (plus, if the reason I didn’t like it is because I was bored, I won’t have much to say regardless!)

magician's guild#6 The occasional book that proves me right. We’ve all been there once or twice: picked up a book, found ourselves hating it, yet *miraculously* just as we’re about to throw the book at a wall or coming to the final act, the book rewards our patience and we end up loving it. For me, the most memorable example was Magician’s Guild– a book I’m still a bit meh about, but a series I’m crazy for! If I’d given up on that, I’d have really missed out (there’s that FOMO again) so with that in mind, I sometimes push on.

bringing down the duke#7 If I really like the concept. This goes hand in hand with the last one. If I saw something in the concept and have faith in the story, then I’m going to have a tough time giving up on it (especially if it was super hyped!) I can keep going as long as I have the merest glimmer of hope (…which is sadly so infrequently rewarded).

 

ordinary men#8 Some books are hard, but that doesn’t mean they’re not worthwhile. Similarly to #7, I do like to pick up the odd challenging book and that can have its downsides. A book can be tough for any number of reasons- difficult subject matter, complex writing etc. Often, it is for the best that I power through, even if I’m not enjoying it… but then, with books like Ordinary Men and Gulag Archipelago they’re not exactly meant to be enjoyed. And that’s okay- I just have to be a bit more prepared to persevere with those books and remember why I’m trying to read them in the first place.

happily ever after#9 I may have been in the wrong mood when I picked it up. As a self-confessed mood reader, I’ve had this on numerous occasions. And it doesn’t help that I don’t always recognise what I’m in the mood for… or in some cases ignore my mood entirely. Recently, I felt like reading thrillers, but with everything going on I convinced myself I must want to pick up fluffy contemporaries. All this did was make me slumpy (and make me give up on two contemporaries in a row: Happily Ever After and V is for Virgin). What a waste of reading time!

Now that I think about it, most of these are pretty positive reasons to keep going… it’s just those handful of times that I’m clinging to a book longer than I should. I know that if I’m only reading something out of a sense of misplaced shame or FOMO, that’s not good enough. And I have to recognise that if I’m in the wrong mood or it’s just not clicking, I may have to abandon it for the time being (or maybe I should just cut my losses). Ultimately, I have to be honest with myself and DNF for the right reasons.

So, how about you? Do you struggle with DNFing? Why? Or, if you are an experienced DNFer, what are your secrets? Let me know in the comments!